Page 12 of The Luminosity of Loriana Harper

“But you’ll come back to work in the morning ready to put on a smile and lend a helping hand to everyone in need.”

Another sniff. “Okay, I might resemble that remark.”

Yes.“How did you wind up choosing to be a librarian?”

A shrug. “I love books. I mean, as a kid I devoured multiples a day. That continued on into my teen years, so studying literature was a no-brainer. From there it just flowed into library science. The profession wasn’t so technologically based fifteen years ago as it is now. I’ve learned to adapt.”

“You kept those computers going long past their expiry date.”

Another shrug. “That’s what we do. We get creative. We find innovative solutions. We keep trying new things until something works. Then we recycle that over and over again.”

The note of pride in her voice was unmistakable.

She squeezed his hand. “I do need to be going. I start a bit later tomorrow because of the Christmas Parade, but I still want to be on hand while you install the machines.”

“Because you don’t trust me, or because you want to ogle me?”

A distinctive chuckle. “Maybe a bit of both.” She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you.”

The profound gratitude was unmistakable.

He eased his hand away and let her sit up on her own. He also sat, giving her the space she needed but staying close. He yearned to continue touching her. To continue trying to soothe—even as he felt inadequate to the task.

She wouldn’t meet his gaze at first, and he wanted to tilt her chin up, but that involved touching. That meant asking, and now didn’t seem the right moment for that.

Then, at length, she raised her chin.

Her soulful dark-brown eyes were red, her lids swollen, her cheeks hectic with color, and her lips puffy. Despite all this, she’d never looked more beautiful to him.

She held up the used tissues. “I’m a mess.”

Perhaps, but a beautiful mess.

So inappropriate.

“I think if you leave them on the plastic chair, Patsy will find them and give them a good send-off.”

A small smile.

“Why don’t we head upstairs and find our coats? I didn’t realize we were supposed to bring our pajamas here to change, so I wore them. I got at least one odd glance while going to my car.”

“I need to get changed.” She exhaled. “I suppose I could’ve worn them. I live in a house, so I’d only have to scoot between the car and the side door. I would’ve been more concerned about getting from the street to here.”

“Something tells me the neighbors are used to this.”

Another small smile. “Yes, I suspect you’re probably right.” She pushed herself up onto her knees and then rose, still a little unsteady.

He followed as quickly as he could and had a grasp on her elbow to steady her.

“My Galahad.”

Huh?

His look of confusion must’ve conveyed his uncertainty because she explained.

“A knight from King Arthur’s Round Table. The gallant one. Also the name of the cat in one of my favorite thriller series by J.D. Robb, and I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that.”

“I want to hear about anything you’ll tell me. I find you fascinating.”Perhaps a little too honest?

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